You're My Kind of Scum
by SeriousSubwayFlirting
Summary: A series of moments, alternating between silly and sweet, featuring Atton Rand and Exile Aquila Ornil. Miss Ornil belongs to the lovely knickerweasels, and these shorts are based on her perfect art.


**This story was written for knickerweasels, and features her Exile, Aquila Ornil. It was based on one of her many beautiful pieces of Atton/Exile art, and the title and Aquila's last line is all from her brilliant mind, so I cannot take credit there.** Please go have a look at my profile; I've listed all relevant links, and trust me, if you don't go check out her art, you're definitely missing out. It's just gorgeous, and some of the best kotor fanart I've ever seen, and my personal favourite. She is also a burgeoning writer, and her stuff is exceedingly fun to read. Anyway, this is the first of a projected three chapters, all written for Knickers, based on her art :) There's no overarching plot, just fluff and joy.

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The wedge of her heel wobbled as it hit the duracrete pavement and her hand instinctively closed tighter around Atton's leather jacket. All Jedi had their strengths; some meditation, some swordplay, some a unique prowess for the Force, but Aquila's was doing it all in impractical footwear, and the difficulty she was having in staying up right was testament to just how much Juma she had consumed. Though Atton kept the arm threaded around her ribcage in place, and took a little more of her weight until she had recovered from the stumble, it didn't stop him from throwing his head back, mocking laughter rolling from his mouth unrepentently.

"You're drunk," he observed with a smirk.

Aquila shook her head, not impressed by the accusation. She sniffed indignantly. "I am not, peedunky," she managed, before tripping again.

Atton gave a negatory hum, erupting anew into laughter.

"_Keepuna_!" hissed Aquila, passing through her foggy mind a thought to remove her shoes, before she remembered that Nar Shaddaa was not a fit place to go barefoot, even at the best of times.

Atton took pity, this time, encouraged by a quick glance at her chest, a reminder that staying on her good side would be of benefit to him. He could not help the last remnants of a snigger escaping from his mouth, but he quickly bobbed his head down, delivering a kiss to her temple that seemed to pacify her. Her eyes fluttered closed, slowed by intoxication, and she let a gooey smile cross her face and pressed her head against him, slipping her hand from where it had clasped his jacket, up and under to touch the smooth, warm skin of his flank. They weren't far from the_ Hawk_, now, only several more blocks of towering buildings and echoing expanse below them until they could take leave in her tiny room. The night had seen more frivolity, more liquor and dancing and shots than he'd experienced in months - before he met this tiny, wondrous, generous if occasionally splenetic woman and found himself devoted to her. The binds that kept him by her side were not secrets or duty or promises to Kreia, but Aquila's soulful eyes, and the delicate curve of her jaw, and the way he so enjoyed how she played with his hair and cursed in Huttese and wore shoes that didn't make a single lick of sense to him. Her presence was enough to stop the ground beneath his feet from moving, it was buying him time to catch his balance, it was allowing him to see himself in a way he hadn't in years. With respect, with dignity.

He gave his head a sharp shake, stunned and almost disappointed in a hollow sort of way to find himself waxing romantic during the drunken amble home in the Vertical City, something that never would have happened a year ago. Still, he looked ahead, and somehow the sky was not smoggy and dank, but a hazy kind of violet and Atton saw only a wash of colour and light. He knew that it was only street lamps and neon signs reflected in the puddles of filthy, stale rain upon the ground, but it seemed almost glorious, and it was because of her. She made ugly things seem beautiful.

Just as Atton lost himself in thought once more, she careened again. He felt a violent tug at his side and he suddenly found his elbow connecting painfully with the ground. He writhed, tangled in a mess of limbs, and not the one he'd been anticipating.

"_E chu ta_! Stupid fracking shoes!" shouted Aquila from where she was crushed below him.

Atton groaned, rolling off her, dirty sleet soaking through his pants and making his skin prickle with chill. "If they're so stupid, why do you wear them?"

"They make my legs look good!" she threw back defensively, her lips pouted.

With a scowl, Atton tossed a hand at her. "They already look good!" he spat.

There was a moment of silence, as she absorbed the compliment, then she grinned. "My ass is wet."

Atton scoffed, rolling his eyes jovially as any irritation frittered away in wake of her smile. "Consider me seduced."

She leaned across, palms on the pavement, and delivered an enthusiastic peck to his cheek. "Sorry."

"'S okay," grunted Atton, unsuccessfully trying to catch her lips with his before she sat back. He watched her and the joyful glint in her eye, and because he was not entirely sober himself, he could not find a way to keep his mouth closed. "Quill. Hey - hey, listen."

She gave a curious hum, watching his face.

"I love you."

Her expression remained blank for a beat, before she grinned again. "I know."

Having hoped to find the sentiment reciprocated, Atton's jaw dropped in protest. "Wait, no -"

"Atton," she said, quietly, tenderly, taking one of his hands in hers. "_U kulle rah doe kankee kung_."

Atton's Huttese was not as good as Aquila's, and though his mind continued churning, working on a translation, her tone told him all he needed to know. He gave a gentle smile, shifting his weight closer to her, so he could take her face in his hands and kiss her. It was one deeper and more intimate than most Atton had given, soft and warm and as affectionate as he knew how. She returned it, pulling her fingers through his messy hair before wedging her index fingers behind the shells of his ears. Uncomfortable and sodden though the pavement was, it all seemed somehow perfect to him, and he would have stayed there, holding and touching and being with her, as long as he possibly could. And then her words fell into place, and he realised what she had said.

"Hey!"


End file.
